For my dearest sister… Shikha
You hand over the scroll in my hand
A piece of paper rolled and tied with a red string
You ask me to open it when you are gone
I don’t want you to leave me
Leave me with fond memories of yesterday
I look at the letter, the words are concealed inside
My eyes try to peep in and catch a few words
They fall, incessantly, as I pencil this down
I tell them not to, but they still do
O sister, since you are gone
The chair is empty; no one can fill that place and the one in my heart
As we look for you
But to our dismay, you are not there
What remain are the letter and your heartfelt encouraging words.
I miss you sister.